


Moves and Countermoves

by Nevanna



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Age Difference, Hypnotism, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Manipulation, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevanna/pseuds/Nevanna
Summary: Roger fears that Alex might have given away too much.





	Moves and Countermoves

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic as a follow-up to [Those Seasons Made Up And Undone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942771), but I think, and hope, that it can be read independently.
> 
> Roger's POV isn't my favorite one in the world to write, but it was necessary to make both scenes work, so I just decided to roll with his mustache-twirling.

“I caught one of the squires asleep in the library yesterday,” Myles says as they cross the courtyard after dinner.

“Is that so?” Roger inquires. Usually, he finds Myles’ topics of conversation somewhat more interesting than idle gossip. Under different circumstances, a man with such breadth of knowledge and intellectual curiosity could have been a genuine friend. “I don’t envy the lad if his master should find out about that.”

“He just did,” Myles says drily.

“Then you have my gratitude.” As he speaks, Roger considers all of the possible reasons why Myles might have given him this information. “I shall remind Alexander that such actions have consequences.”

“It seems that he’s already taken many of your lessons to heart.” Myles is still carefully maintaining a casual tone. “You’ve wrought considerable changes in him. His friends have noticed them, too.”

Roger doesn’t break his stride – though it takes some effort – but he chooses his next move with equal care, as he always does on the rare occasions when an opponent attempts to trap him. “I can only prepare him to serve the Crown” – _when I am the one wearing it_ , he thinks – “to the best of my ability.”

“Oh, I think that you could do a good deal more than that, if you truly wanted to.” Myles’ voice has sharpened.

“Are you implying something?”

“Is there something to imply?” Myles counters. “I only want to point out that a man who holds such profound influence, whether over one person or an entire kingdom, should be careful not to abuse that power.”

 _An entire kingdom._ How did Myles come to suspect such a thing? Could Alex, who still doesn't understand everything himself, have let something slip? “And why are you so interested in _my_ squire? I thought that Alan of Trebond was your special favorite.”

Myles’ jowls quiver, and Roger knows that he’s touched a pressure point. “He’s not…”

“Not what? Not in the habit of spending time with you outside of lessons? Not eager to follow you on expeditions and choose mysterious weapons from your armory? Quite the contrary, as we both know. And yet, there are no rumors that you are paying him any inappropriate attention.” Roger aims the next word like the point of a dagger. “ _Yet_.” He meets Myles’ eyes long enough to see them widen, even in the dim light from the windows, and then turns on his heel and glides back the way that he came.

He finds Alex leaving the squires’ dining room alongside Prince Jonathan. Roger put on a sympathetic face when it appeared that Alex’s longtime friends were drawing away from him, but the truth remains that each of those friends is at once a potential confidant and a potential distraction.

And Jonathan, whose face breaks into an easy grin when he sees his cousin, is an obstacle in more ways than one. 

Alex, unusually, does not smile when Roger approaches. “Were you looking for us, my lord?”

“Only for you.” Roger drops a hand onto his shoulder. “I’m sure that you have your own duties this evening, Jon. You needn’t wait about for him.”

\--

“Sit down,” Roger commands when they reach his study. A casual gesture lights the room around them. He hasn’t needed sorcery to see Alex’s mind running through real and imagined transgressions, trying to identify the one that merits the steel under his knight-master’s silky tone. His discomfort often has its advantages, but the swirl of thoughts and emotions might make it difficult to search the boy’s memories. He will still be easier to read than Myles himself would have been. “I understand that you and Sir Myles had a little conversation yesterday.”

“I apologize for falling asleep over my books, Your Grace,” Alex says quickly. “I know that inattention can sometimes mean life or…”

Roger holds up a hand. “Never you mind that,” he says firmly. “I am much more interested in the questions that he might have asked you… and what you might have said to him.” With his other hand, he reaches for the chain around his neck, letting the light flare off the gemstone pendant. “Tell the truth, now.”

“He asked me…” As Alex follows the pendant with his eyes, his voice becomes slower and more distant. “He asked if I was having trouble sleeping because I’m afraid of the Ordeal.”

“And are you?” Roger almost forgets to infuse his voice with concern. “Do you have nightmares?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember them?” If so, such dreams could be yet another valuable tool.

“No.”

“What else did you and Myles say to each other?”

“He wanted to know if you demand too much of me,” Alex says promptly, “and I told him that you ask nothing that I’m not willing to give.”

“Indeed I do not.” For good measure, Roger skims the surface of Alex’s mind – which is now much more relaxed and permeable than before – for echoes of that conversation, and finds that he is holding nothing back. “Thank you, Alex. I’m not angry with you, but I expected that you would be more careful when speaking with the royal spymaster. His job – and one of his greatest skills – is to uncover secrets. Don’t speak to him again about personal matters, or about your obligations to me.”

“I won’t, my lord.”

“Should Myles or anybody else find out what you and I mean to each other, your future might well be called into question.” Roger leans forward, tingeing his voice with regret. “And I rather doubt that I would be in it. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Neither do I,” Roger agrees with a smile. “You look beautiful like this, you know.” Alex trembles slightly at the praise. His eyes are halfway closed, his lips parted. Roger extends a hand and traces them with one finger. “Doesn’t it feel wonderful to just drift along with my voice, to float away from all your bad dreams and uncertainties, and do as you’re told?” Alex nods. “Would you like to feel this way again?” Another nod. “Perhaps we’ll be able to arrange that.”

\--

Later, while Alex sleeps, Roger retreats to his workroom and makes sure that Myles remains tightly bound in the spell that will deter the suspicions of anybody who stands in his way. He hopes that it will be enough.


End file.
